Tout les Temps Séparé
by KatFay
Summary: [Seperated for All Time] Pansy has always loved Draco, yet she could never tell him, and he only acknowledges her when it suits him. But even if he did, could she fall for him again?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Pansy, or Draco, or any other bit of J.K. Rowling's work. I own all characterization and plot line though….except for the ending…that belongs to…HEY! WHEN DID YOU CHANGE YOUR USERNAME HELEN!**

**Anyway, it belongs to her. So does the French…I don't speak it, I picked Spanish. It means something along the lines of "Separated for All Time" which of course makes this whole thing sound dreadfully romantic and sappy…which some people would say it is…so what the heck. Here goes my midnight masterpiece!

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Tout les Temps Séparé

"It's sickening." Draco sneered. I nodded, subtly knowing that's what he wanted me to do. I probably would have agreed, if I had been paying any attention, but I wasn't. I was too preoccupied with the Transfiguration essay due next class.

"Somebody should hex them." Draco continued. I nodded again. Then I looked up. Oh, he wanted me to hex them. I looked at what he was talking about. Two Hufflepuffs were exchanging gifts. The boy had given a blushing girl a bunch of slightly wilted flowers and a small box of chocolates. Draco tapped his foot behind me. I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and aimed a hex at the two. The flowers suddenly turned into hissing serpents that the girl dropped in shock. Looking more than a little betrayed, she ran off crying, not even suspicious that it had not been the boy's fault. Draco smirked. Then he looked at me, and the dripping quill in my hands.

"Are you still working on that essay?" He looked at me distastefully. I hesitantly nodded, and watched him turn and stalk off. I sighed, and turned to my essay. As I found myself rereading the same line over and over again, I rolled it up and stood up. I looked at the gray vaulted ceiling. I had annoyed him again it seemed. Last time he had stalked off when I had started the essay when it had been assigned. The time before that, it had been because I had finished the essay during breakfast the day it had been due. The week before that, he had left me for being too clingy, the time after that for not being clingy enough. I opted not to follow him, after all, he was probably off to seduce some unsuspecting girl, and I didn't want to see that. Instead I headed toward the Slytherin Common Room, hoping it would be empty.

It was, thankfully. I slumped on a green couch and stole some first year's Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. I silently thanked Slytherin for first years, only they were stupid enough to leave treats out where anyone could eat them. As I picked through for a flavor that wasn't going to make me sick I pondered Draco. I had always liked him, romantically, that is. It was ironic that the rest of the school thought I was dating him, when any Slytherin could have told you that he rarely had anything to do with me, and only when it suited him did I exist. And as the only decent looking girl our age in Slytherin, that seemed a little more frequently when dances came around. It was the only reason he'd asked me out for the Yule Ball. He had successfully paired everyone in Slytherin up, refusing to allow any of us a choice in the matter. He said it would be disgraceful if a Slytherin asked out someone of another house. Not like anyone would even if he hadn't paired us up. As soon as the comment was stated, any Slytherin who thought about doing so ended any plans. The school was right about one thing; Slytherins craved power, and we all lusted after Draco's.

But I had the fortune (or misfortune) of knowing Draco before Hogwarts. Back when he was a slightly less snobby boy who was trying to be everything his father was. He liked me better back then. He told me everything: his plans to sneak into the kitchen and wreck havoc, how he had tortured his house-elf, what his father had bought him, his plans to be the greatest wizard in the world. The last private thing he had told me was that he was getting the Dark Mark during the summer. That was at Christmas and it was April now.

I knew that I liked Draco more than I liked other boys when I was eight years old. I had told my stuffed snake that I was going to get married to Draco. I told Draco the next day. He had stomped his foot, mock tantrum, telling me that I couldn't tell him what to do. The next day he told me that we were going to get married. I had shrugged and humored him. After all, he had agreed with what I wanted. When I was older, I had amused myself with thought that Draco had needed his ego stroked even that young.

Mother had warned me before I started Hogwarts that things would be different there. My sister had told me rather bluntly that I looked like a horse and Draco was a Malfoy; we wouldn't be friends anymore. If I had been destined to be a Hufflepuff I would have burst out crying, run to Draco and made him promise to always be friends with me. I was not. I was a Slytherin, and I sucked it up. And sprinkled itching powder all over her make-up. As it turned out, things did change at Hogwarts. But it was much more subtle and spanned a number of years. And now, near the end of our fifth year, we were as separated as we had once been close.

The Common Room door opened. Draco stepped in front of me, grabbing the candy from my hands. I suppressed a protest. He emptied the container in his palm, quickly sorting out the good tasting ones from the bad. He returned half the handful back into the container and began to leave the Common Room. When I made no signs of moving he glanced at me. That was all it needed. I stood up and walked to the entrance. He looked me up and down.

"Where's you essay?" He asked coolly. I hid my surprise well, bringing out the essay. He looked it over and opened the door, motioning for me to go through. I followed him to the library, where he stacked a pile of books on a table. He laid my essay on top and took a seat. I sat down and pulled the first book close to me. I glanced at the title of the book and looked at his smug face. His eyebrows arched when they glanced at me.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. His eyebrow arched higher. Then he shrugged and stood up. He piled the books into his arms.

"If you don't want them…" He let it hang. I stood up, and took the books back. He nodded and retreated. After all, it would be horrible for his reputation to be seen helping me study. I sat back down, dropping the books rather ungracefully on the table. It was moments like this, when I remembered how I had fallen for Draco. He could be so sweet sometimes. And then I remembered earlier today when he told me that I was acting too much like Mudblood Granger, trying to get my assignments done early and asked me if I was going to start parading around in Gryffindor colors any time soon. I should have hexed him.

I moved the books further back on the table and stared at it for a moment. Some emotional idiot had carved their initials with that of their sweetheart's inside a heart. A part of me was disgusted and another part of me longed to trace the initials and dream about Draco carving ours in a table. As soon as that vision popped into my head I snapped out of it. Draco would never do something as public, as degrading, and as emotional as that. No, he would slip a ring on my hand and tell me the duties of someone who would be married into the Malfoy family. It would be precise, concise, and completely unromantic. And yet, I wasn't the only Slytherin girl who wished he'd do just that, even if it was a loveless, miserable marriage.

Slytherins aren't a sappy bunch. We leave that to the Hufflepuffs. They were the only ones so disgustingly naive enough to pull it off. We're not like Ravenclaws who suppress emotions in themselves and study them in others. We sneer and glare and make fun of everyone we think is beneath us. And my emotions toward Draco would classify me as beneath even a Hufflepuff first year for the rest of my life. So I would lie and steal and murder to keep that secret and I would bury the feeling so deep that eventually it would go away.

I started my essay, the library would close soon, and I didn't want to bring the books back to the Common Room. Draco would glance at me in disdain, annoyed I was acting like Granger bringing them with me and annoyed I hadn't finished when he told me to. I added my finished touches as the librarian came around to shoo me away. I left the books where they were, and left the library without acknowledging the old woman. I treaded carefully to the Common Room. I didn't feel like getting into a fight with some Gryffindor, and I didn't want to run into Draco at the moment. I was both annoyed and thankful and I needed a bit of time to sort it out. I found myself pacing in front of a door over and over again. I sighed. It was getting close to curfew and I had to go back.

I walked into the Common Room. Draco was lazing on the couch, watching the Slytherins near him. A pale hand signaled me to come over. I obeyed. He eyed me like I was a piece of cattle, looking me up then down and back up again.

"You're coming with me to Hogsmeade this weekend." He said. My mouth dropped open gracelessly before I managed to close it. A flick of his hand dismissed me. I stared at it for a moment, as his attention drifted elsewhere.

"No." I said, a croak. He looked at me, eyebrows raised, eyes showing their skepticism.

"What did you say?" he asked me, tonelessly. I found it in me to speak again.

"No." I said before fleeing to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me, collapsing on my bed. He wouldn't come after me. At this moment he was probably still getting his mind around the fact that I had rejected him.

I had rejected him.

My hand almost moved to slap myself. How could I do this? I loved him, didn't I? Why did I reject him, one side of my brain argued.

Because he doesn't love you. Because he's using you. Because you need to get over him. Because you need to stop letting him break your heart like this, the other side argued. I bit my lip, listening to my brain rationalize my actions. I had to get over him. I knew that the first time I cried because he made fun of my looks. I knew that now, as my silent tears were hidden by a curtain of my hair. I had to get over him and move on.

But I still loved him.


End file.
